Gold Dust and Irony
by CeruleanStarGlow
Summary: And I guess, it wasn’t a coincidence. It was his fault, and he took his punishment. He found me, bloodied and beaten, and he watched me die, by his hand.
1. By Prose

Title: Golden dust and irony

I sat there, laid there… no… I can't remember enough to tell you my fucking position on that cold stone floor. All I knew was the biting cold of the air around me, and the complete darkness of the cell. My hands seemed to have turned frozen and numb long ago. I couldn't remember when. I lost count of the date sometime after February third. I don't have a clue how long I've been in this cell. Routines have blurred the days and made them all the same.

"Pet" The rough and calloused voice made shudders run through me. Even after so long, I still feared his visits. No… I wasn't afraid of him. I hated him. "Now my pet, will you be cooperating today?" He asked, and I raised my eyes to glare at the space where I thought he was.

I didn't say a thing, but I knew he had gotten the message. It took only seconds for me to feel the burning, slicing, white hot pain of the cruciatus curse fill me up. It ran up and down my spine, and through my arms and legs and torso.

Still, I didn't scream. My voice had turned raw and broken from screaming for so long. It was too tired to scream even for this pain, and so I made no noise as I shook with pain. All I could do was glare into the face of this man. This man cloaked with darkness, who came every day to torture me and then left without a word. The man gave me no food, no water, knowing that I could survive, barely, but I could survive on the energy my magic gave me.

"Now my pet. Tell me where he is!"

I said nothing, I did nothing, because I didn't know. Every day they asked me the same question, and I could give them no answer. I didn't know where harry was. I hadn't seen him for months before I was taken to this prison. Still, they kept me here, and I knew, if I remained defiant, if I said nothing about not knowing, if I just kept pretending I wouldn't relinquish the information, I would survive.

Still, I doubted how long I could manage on magic alone. Very soon perhaps, my magic would cease to support me, and I would find myself slowly fading away, into a blackness so much warmer and lighter than the one I was captured in right now.

And the days passed by, and each and every day I wanted less and less to live, and more and more to die, but I wouldn't cause my death. I still wouldn't tell them that I didn't know. If I was to die, I would be killed. I would not kill myself. So I stayed, and I lived.

It was ironic, really. I knew the death eaters wouldn't be able to keep me forever. I knew the ministry would find me someday. I knew, but I didn't expect them to find me the day they did. I was sitting on the cold dungeon floor, and I could feel that warmth pressing in. And on that day, I saw I light. A small golden light, filling up my cell with a golden glow. Dust swirled around me, dancing In the glow, and it was wrong. It seemed too much like I was already dead, though I knew I wasn't. It was almost like heaven, but it couldn't be. Heaven wasn't my cell, and heaven wasn't golden. Heaven was white and pure.

It was ironic, really. He was the one who came to rescue me, and in that one moment, I hated him. His green eyes glowing in the gold light, his jet black hair messy as always. I hated him, because he was the 

reason for this. It was his fault they took me, it was his fault they kept me. It was his fault that the moment he took me into his arms, I breathed my last breath.

And I guess, it wasn't a coincidence. It was his fault, and he took his punishment. He found me, bloodied and beaten, and he watched me die, on his hand. And he watched me die with a smile on my face, because I had gotten my revenge.

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	2. By Poetry

And all I can see is this golden dust

All I can feel is biting cold

My life is laying waste, to rust

My brittle soul is growing old

All I can feel is biting cold

All that I know is this empty cell

My brittle soul is growing old

My tortured mind, placed under a spell

All that I know is this empty cell

All I can hear is his calloused voice

My tortured mind placed under a spell

He's offering me, a chance, a choice

All I can hear is his calloused voice

Muttering words that I've heard before

He's offering me a chance, a choice

I'd die, not just waste years, half dead on this floor

Muttering words that I've heard before

He raises his wand, and I'm filled with the pain

I'd die, not just waste years, half dead on this floor

I'm living my life, not in love but in vain

He raises his wand and I'm filled with the pain

I shudder and fall to the frozen, cold stone

I'm living my life, not in love but in vain

In this icy cold cell, in the dark, on my own

I shudder and fall to the frozen, cold stone

And he leaves me alone here, to die

In this icy cold cell, in the dark on my own

Still no tear falls. My eyes do not cry

And he leaves me alone here to die

But the black dust turns golden and bright

Still no tear falls. My eyes do not cry

I just stare at his eyes in the light

But the black dust turns golden and bright

And his green eyes appear before mine

I just stare at his eyes in the light

It's his fault, now my breath ends it's time

And his green eyes appear before mine

My life is laying waste, to rust

It's his fault, now my breath ends it's time

And all I can see is this golden dust


End file.
